


2.28

by bonebo



Series: hand in unlovable hand [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Ashing, M/M, Master/Slave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 01:46:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12570964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonebo/pseuds/bonebo
Summary: 28.Xenophilia | Tickling |Swallowing





	2.28

The lounge room is warm and scented with incense, lit dimly by both the dying sunlight filtering in from the slatted windows and the lanterns that hang overhead. Hanzo lies on one of the low couches, his yukata lazily draped over his body and barely clinging to his muscled shoulders; it parts over his body to expose the smooth, flat planes of his stomach, the dark, curling hairs clustered around his soft, thick cock, and each gentle rise-fall-repeat of his toned chest as he breathes.

Kneeling on the floor beside him, Genji cuts a very different picture. 

His robes are a pastel pink--floral, feminine--and they gather on the ground beneath him, hiding his bare feet in a tumbling bunch of fabric. The chain that hangs between his pierced nipples is made of glinting gold, currently pulled taut by one of Hanzo’s curling fingers, his kohl-lined eyes closed against both the pain of each alternating tug and the plume of smoke that Hanzo blows in his face.

“Our empire is at the most powerful it has ever been,” he murmurs, taking another drag off his long, slim cigarette. “Our highest numbers in profit, and supply is steady...no thanks to you, of course,” he adds, glancing over to Genji flatly.

Ignoring his brother’s sheepish nod, Hanzo turns his gaze upward to the ceiling and takes another leisurely pull off the cigarette. His bouncing finger releases Genji’s chain with a sigh of something close to boredom as smoke billows out past his teeth.

“You have been useful, though, I suppose,” he muses, lazily rolling his head to glance over at Genji once more. “If for no other reason than being a warm hole to fuck, and a source of stress relief when the business starts to get to me…” He pauses, then adds with a dry chuckle, “And I suppose you do make for a pretty urinal.”

Genji blushes, his gaze dropping shamefully to the floor; and a yelp is forced from him as Hanzo’s hand returns, grabbing a fistful of short dark hair and craning Genji’s head backward sharply.

“I bet you could be a pretty ashtray, too,” he murmurs, his voice dark and low enough to have Genji’s eyes widening in fear, to make the hair along the back of his neck raise. He brings his cigarette closer, hovering the glowing, ashy tip over Genji’s bitten, pink lips. “Open.”

And Genji does--closes his eyes against the tears and Hanzo’s smirk and slowly lets his mouth fall open. With a purr Hanzo rests the cigarette on the soft curve of Genji’s lip and gives it a flick, sending hot ash fluttering down to coat Genji’s tongue. It takes all he has, all of Hanzo’s brutal training, to not gag--with the burn of the ash on his tongue, the bitter, charred taste, the texture like cake batter, clinging to his teeth and gums--and when he finally makes his eyes open again, it’s to the sight of Hanzo backlit like a god before him, his outline made blurry by tears.

“Good. Now swallow.”


End file.
